Veiled Illusions
by Tansy Moon
Summary: Sometimes things arent what they seem. Sometimes old forgotten dreams revil the veiled illusions in ones heart.


It was yet another day in the witches game for Ange. Only today instead of playing the game and getting it all over with, Beatrice the bloody Golden Witch, the one thing keeping Ange from her family and life, deiced they would all take a break in the Golden Land of hers and relax. Well Ange didn't like this one little bit, there had to be some motive behind this. She was so sure of it she even told Battler to keep his guard up.

"Of course I will, that sticking witch wont get nothing past me!" He proclaimed.

Ange had to scoff at this and then remind him of the last game. As expected he tried laughing it off and saying the past is the past. Ange was sure then she'd have to keep her guard up high for both of them. That witch was planning something and there was no way Ange would allow her big brother to fall for another trick so help her God.

Ange watched intently as Beatrice laughed and played with the stakes. It was quite obvious they were having the time of there lives. This pretty little scene made her want to ring the witches neck now more then ever but also that smile on Beato's face seemed so familiar and comforting. Part of Ange wanted to find a way to keep that happy smile there forever. The rest was so pissed off at the one part that she was now eating the scones set in the middle of the table in the abode in such a manner that she had even caught the happy smiling groups attention.

'Ange-sama seems to be upset about something' Mammon thought to herself.

After a small amount of internal debating on the pro's and con's of asking Ange what was wrong, Mammon's greedy nature won out despite there being more con's on the list in her head.

Ange was so preoccupied trying to destroy the little voice in her head that had found Beatrice's smile anything but unpleasant and sickening that she didn't even notice Mammon's presence till she was right beside her.

"Something wrong, Ange-sama?" She asked.

Ange scowled looking at the red eyed stake. "Why should you care?" Ange replied, her voice flat, her eyes in an glaring angry denial.

"No reason. Just curious." Mammon answered the glaring girl off handedly.

Ange scoffed at this and turned her head and attention back to destroying all the thoughts she did not approve of. Mammon stared at Ange noticing her gaze seemed to be on something in particular, deciding to fallow the path the redheads eyes seemed to take. They landed on her current master Beatrice. Putting several things together Mammon came to one conclusion and couldn't suppress the giggle threatening to become a full on bout of hysteria.

The laughing from the girl beside her caused Ange to turn her head quickly.

"What's so funny?" After hearing the question posed to her Mammon stopped giggling as best as she could and shoke her head.

"Just you Ange-sama." Ange's chocolate brown eyes narrowed as she become increasingly suspicious of Mammon's small laughing fit seconds earlier.

As a staring contest between Mammon and Ange took place with neither backing down, Beatrice had deiced to take a set in the adobe across from Ange. Noticing the purely one-sided glaring contest Beato's own innocently curious nature began to spring forth. After several seconds of analyzing the situation in front of her, a wicked smile came upon her face accompanied by a very fun idea, at lest to her.

"My…. my what do we have here?" She smirked at the scene in front of her, amusement clear in her voice.

Both Ange and Mammon's heads turned to her as if she had actually just popped out of nowhere instead of being there for the minute she had been. The blond directed her sharp, deep blue eyes at both faces, examining their expressions. Mammon had a slightly surprised yet knowing look, most likely from finding out something and being caught off guard. While Ange's had only be surprised a second, it now looked hard and calculating. This look made the witch smile only grow bigger. If Beatrice were to be perfectly honest with herself, she found this Ange both interesting and almost more fun then Battler. Speaking of such, where was that imbecile? Oh well, she'd worry about it later. Right now, Beato had his cute little sister too mess with and that was more then enough.

"Are you going to just stare at me all day? I mean I know I'm gorgeous but that doesn't mean you have to be so infatuated with me Greeeaatttlllleeee." Beatrice teased knowingly of Ange's stares from while she had been playing with the stakes.

Ange scoffed. "You are not one bit pretty and to look at you any longer would burn my eyes out"

The witches smile grew even bigger and now took up her whole face. Oh, she knew this would be fun. Battler's anger was nothing compared to Ange's and that was because there was something undeniably cute in her anger.

"Ahhh, but Gretel, you were staring at me and you still are. If you're not trying to rape me with those eyes of yours, then what are you doing?" Beato's voice came out as less of a question and more of a 'don't deny the truth' kind of taunt.

There was a silence and it seemed Ange had no intention of answering the woman in front of her. After a few seconds Mammon piped up.

"Why don't you ask her in blue, Beatrice-sama? Then she'll have to answer!"

"Oh, I like how you think Mammon!" Beatrice clapped her hands together while praising the stake of greed in a overjoyed manor.

Though, from Ange she received a harsh glare. Mammon didn't care. She truly wanted to see where this would lead. Would Ange realize something important or will Beatrice push her too far? In the end, it was all just a game and Mammon had the only front row seat.

After flat out refusing to be a toy for the witch and her furniture's amusement any longer, Ange decided to take a break in the parlor like lounge where most of the battles between her brother and Beatrice had been held. Sitting in a random chair, Ange relaxed allowing her eyes to close shut and her mind to wander. At first her thoughts were fine, even calming, but after awhile something felt off edge. While the atmosphere in her thoughts had not changed, something like a long forgotten memory began to poke at the seams. In this memory like state Ange could clearly see a younger version of her self crying. The young Ange could be no more the nine, and was so pitifully crying for the lose of her entire family. The older Ange could feel the pain of the younger one crying in the not-so-far-off distance. So badly did Ange want to reach out to her younger self and comfort her, but something told her to stay, and she did, waiting for something. Though what or who Ange was not sure.

Thoughts ran ramped threw her mind. '_Is this really a memory?' 'An I actually dreaming?' 'What am I waiting for?' 'Why am I not comforting my younger self?'_. Ange could not understand any of it and as she stood there waiting, feeling every little emotion her younger self was feeling, until she saw a figure dissolve from the nothingness around them into existence. After a moment Ange recognized the figure to be Beatrice. Though her younger self had yet to notice this figure in front of her, a part of Ange felt a sudden urgency to save her younger self from the cruel witch. Alas the part of her mind that seemed to have control calmed her. Telling her to look at the witch.

'_Does she really look like the Beatrice you know from the games?_' the voice urged, causing Ange to take a second look at her. Surly this witch was different. The look in her deep, blue eyes was almost dead as if she was on the cusp of her last moments. Her hair was down and her movements painfully slow. Everything about this Beatrice was different from the one Ange had come to know, the one who's eyes seemed to smile at others in a taunting way, who spoke rudely and with no second thought, who was a literal pain in Ange's neck. This witch was surely different.

As the golden haired witch got down on her knees in front of the younger Ange, said Ange finally noticed the newcomer and started at her, tears still running down her checks. Her eyes slightly asking '_Who are you why are you here?' _Beatrice said noting to Ange's younger self, instead opting to wipe her tears and silently offer her lap for the nine year old to lay her head on.

At this Ange felt a new rush of emotion from her younger self. It was something Ange hadn't felt in to long, so long she had almost forgotten its name. The serine calm like nothing in the world could make you fear. It was peace, a true since of peace. As the little girl laid her head down on the young woman's lap, a loud sound much like someone stomping there foot over and over on the ground in irritation, caused Ange to quickly open her eyes from what she now realized was a dream.

"Who gave her permission to sit in MY chair? Its MINE!" a pouting childish Beato complained, all the while stomping her foot over and over.

"Gezz don't throw a tantrum, you big baby! Just wake her up and tell her to move… Its not that hard." Mumbled a clearly agitated Battler.

"But I don't wanna. Someone else do it." Beato whined back in response "Why don't you Battler? You're her partner. She likes you, humph."

By that statement Ange was able to deduct that Beatrice did not like Ange's storming out on her earlier one bit. Not that Ange cared. If she did not want to do something then she wouldn't. Ange loudly sighed and got up from the chair.

"You know for a thousand year old witch you sure are a pampered child." Ange scolded as she moved to the chair next to Battler.

Beatrice had no comment as she sat down, or was it more like plopped? Oh well, Ange didn't care.

"Well now shall we begin the fourth game?"…..

Dear Battler,

If you are receiving this. The that means that you have reached the truth as I have wanted of you, but it also means that for me, time has already run out. I am truly sorry for everything that has happened up to this point, and I know that words or anything could ever give you or anyone else back the things I have selfishly taken from you all. I pray that you at lest are able to make it home to your dear sister, but if you are not then I have a favor to ask. Not for me but for Ange and for you. Please…. please put her soul to rest and write her a tale. Weave her the perfect tale that no one may disturb, for her sake, because, Battler, as you most likely well know, now sometimes humans deserve better then the truth.

Sincerely,

Beatrice the Golden

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AN: YAY my first BeaAnge fic its more frinshipish or sisterly I think but thats fine casue I didnt want anymore then that xD. well anyways I hope this one-shot was good not to sure one everyones chaerter and whatnot anyways I hope you have enjoyed.^^


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